Traitor (Southern Rebels MC Book 3)

by Kristin Coley

  She took it with a nod, inhaling deeply. “I’ll make sure it gets in the right hands.”

  “Okay, I should go,” I muttered, forcing myself to take a step back. She swayed, her body in synchrony with mine. “This is harder than I thought.”

  I turned, moving several steps away and when I looked back, she had her arms wrapped around herself, squeezing tightly. “Go inside,” I ordered, almost to the path that traveled from the club to our house. She nodded and opened the door, slipping inside with one last glance back at me. I stayed until the door shut, as weight settled across my chest. I didn’t want to leave her, but until the threat Monty presented was gone, she’d never be safe.

  I jogged down the path, ready to grab my backpack and my bike, and hit the road. When I got to the house, I slowed, seeing four bikes parked in the driveway. Creed walked out the front door, a pack slung over one shoulder, followed by Cord, his distinctive military bag hanging from his arm, his cane in the other hand. Clutch was last, shifting a large bag onto his shoulders as he came around the house.

  “’Bout damn time you showed up,” he bellowed. “You finally finished saying goodbye to your honey?”

  I stopped, swallowing hard as I saw them gathered together, Cord leaning against his bike to take the weight off his leg. “I thought you couldn’t ride,” was the first dumb thing that came out of my mouth and Cord patted the bike fondly.

  “Clutch adapted it for my leg,” he answered, lifting his eyebrows. “You didn’t think we were going to let you go alone, did you?”

  I shook my head, then nodded, not really sure what my answer was. “But you have old ladies,” I protested and Creed laughed.

  “And you have a kid on the way,” he retorted, poking me. “You don’t ride alone. We have strict orders to bring you back in one piece.”

  “Not busted,” Cord added, patting his knee.

  “No new holes,” Clutch mentioned, clapping me on the back. “Basically, we should tie you up and leave you here, but that’s not how we roll.”

  “Ride or die,” I muttered and they echoed, “Ride or die.”

  We loaded up and were about to head out when Clutch’s phone started to ring. He gestured for us to wait, picking up the call. The conversation was too low for me to hear, but I could sense his excitement as he ended the call. “Head to the Aces territory. They’ll meet us at the line then escort us.”

  “Why are we going there?” Creed questioned and Clutch smiled in satisfaction.

  “They have a lead on Monty.”

  ***

  We drove slow, four Aces boxing us in as they guided us to their home base. Clutch seemed fine, making my unease seem juvenile, but I’d learned to be wary going into any group’s territory.

  “Ginger,” Clutch shouted as a redhead in leather stepped off the porch of an old farmhouse. “You finally invited me to meet your family.”

  She grinned, bumping fists with him as we got off our bikes. “Figured it was time.” She lifted her chin to us. “Your brothers?”

  “Yeah, you know Cord,” Clutch pointed and Cord raised his hand halfheartedly. “There’s Creed and Crew.”

  “And you made fun of my Gilligan Island references,” she snorted, dodging when he pretended to swing at her. “Come on to the back.” She walked around the white house, leading us to a huge barn. Lights hung from the ceiling and pine planks covered the dirt floor. There was a bar setup in one corner with tables scattered everywhere. She pointed to the loft as she said, “Sleeping quarters,” but she didn’t stop, guiding us between tables to the back corner where an old man sat smoking a cigar. “Pops,” she greeted him, bending down to kiss his leathered cheek. “I present to you the Hayes brothers, or Rebels.”

  He eyed each of us, finally settling on me, and I could see his face pale slightly. “I guess you don’t need me to tell you how much you look like your daddy,” he mentioned and I shook my head. “Thought a damn ghost had wandered in.” He waved his hand, as he said, “Have a seat. Have a whiskey.”

  We all sat, Ginger straddling a wooden chair next to her Pops. “I heard you’re looking for certain mutual acquaintance of ours,” he commented and Clutch dipped his head. We’d all agreed he should take the lead since he had the best relationship with them. “I got a call today. He was looking for some firepower, heavy artillery you might say.”

  “Today?” I couldn’t stop the question and the old man squinted at me, finally giving me a slow nod.

  “I told him it would take me a few days to get what he needed so he asked what I could give him today.”

  My heart thumped in my chest as I considered this might be it. I moved to speak again, but Clutch flicked his fingers downward, silencing me.

  I clenched my teeth and Ginger gave me a deliberate smile. It physically hurt to wait him out, but I trusted Clutch to handle the wily old man.

  “Any information you could provide would put me in your debt,” Clutch replied formally, his face expressionless even when Creed jerked reflexively. I tried not to let my own surprise show at the generosity Clutch displayed. He’d basically offered the head of the Aces a blank check to be cashed at any time.

  Ginger bit her lip, but quickly smoothed her expression when the old man cackled. “You want him bad.”

  “I’m afraid the debt he owes us is far greater than anything you might ask of me,” Clutch replied coldly, his expression sobering even Pops up. “It’s time he paid.”

  Pops nodded warily, sensing Clutch’s patience had worn thin. “I offered him some light artillery which he was glad to take. Even after I doubled the price.” He cocked his head curiously. “I don’t guess you’d know what he’s planning.”

  “I can’t say I do,” Clutch answered honestly, glancing at us. We shook our heads, exchanging glances as we did, all of us thinking the same thing – it wasn’t anything good that was for sure. “If we could be involved in the exchange….”

  “No,” Pops answered instantly and Clutch’s expression hardened. “It’s business, I’m sure you understand.”

  “I understand you’re not being very helpful,” Clutch replied tightly and the old man had the audacity to chuckle.

  “You are definitely his boys,” he chortled, shaking his head. “If looks could kill, I’d be dead four times over.”

  I almost came out of my chair, but Cord gripped my knee, keeping me seated. “He killed my mother,” I growled, pain twisting the words into something barely intelligible. “Carved the word traitor in her chest and dumped her in front of the Rebel clubhouse.” My nostrils flared as I snarled, “It’s personal, not business.”

  Pops gazed at me sympathetically, his lined face heavy with remorse. “I’m sorry for your loss. No man should have to see that.” He glanced at Clutch, true regret on his face. “You can’t go to the meet because its happening right now.”

  All the air left me at once and I heard the disappointed exhales of my brothers.

  “But my boys have orders to bring Monty back here,” Pops mentioned, causing hope to surge inside of me, the opposite emotions almost dizzying. “He’s sullied our reputation and then comes and wants to make a deal,” Pops sneered. “He’ll pay.” He spat on the ground then looked at each of us. “Consider him a gift,” he nodded to me, “For your loss.”

  “Thank you,” Clutch replied graciously. “Do you know when they’ll be back?”

  Pops glanced at Ginger, who answered, “At least another hour. We try to keep certain transactions as far from our home as possible.”

  “Drink, explore,” Pops said magnanimously. “Treat our club as your own.” He gestured to the women clustered in the corner, eyeing us like fresh meat. “Sample anyone you like.”

  I shook my head, my brothers following suit.

  “Ah well, we have a fine selection of firearms if you’d like to try them instead,” he offered and Clutch glanced at us hopefully.

  “Yeah,” I said shortly. “I could shoot something about now.”

  “Wonderful,�
� Pops said, clapping his hands. “Ginger will show you the firing range.”

  “Come on, boys, let’s see how good your aim is,” she tossed over her shoulder as we followed her outside. “Honestly, I’m surprised he offered to let you test the toys. He’s particular. You must have impressed him.”

  “Either that or he’s evaluating our abilities,” Cord commented, his eyes constantly sweeping the grounds. Ginger didn’t comment, only smiled, and I suspected there was some truth in Cord’s interpretation.

  “Damn,” Creed whistled when we entered the firing range. “This is impressive.”

  Cord hid his concern but when she stepped out of earshot, he hissed, “There are weapons here the military doesn’t have access to.”

  Clutch nodded, not as surprised by the display, and I figured he must have already been introduced to some of these. Ginger brought over ear and eye protection, allowing us to choose our weapons before grabbing one of her own.

  “I can’t let y’all have all the fun,” she teased, before annihilating a paper target.

  We spent two hours on the range, testing out different weapons until Ginger’s discreet checks of her phone grew less discreet.

  “Something wrong?” Creed questioned and she gave him a leery glance.

  “You can trust us, Ginger,” Clutch rumbled. “The Rebels have no beef with the Aces. We just want Monty.”

  “I haven’t heard from the guys,” she admitted reluctantly. “They should have checked in by now.”

  “How unusual is that?” I asked and her expression made my blood run cold. “We need to go.”

  “No,” she denied. “I’m sure they’re fine.”

  “And if they’re not?” Cord folded his arms across his chest. “What then?”

  She jerked her head, indicating we should follow her, as she led us out the back of the range, grabbing a couple of guns along the way. “Do not make me regret this.”

  She tossed guns at us when we got to our bikes and we stashed them in every available place, along with ammunition. “Follow me,” she shouted over the rumble of her bike, red hair flying out from underneath her helmet as she roared down the dirt road.

  It was almost an hour’s drive when we came to a turn off and she didn’t slow down, almost laying the bike down, and it took everything I had not to lose control of my own bike. She rocketed down the tiny path, fearless, as me and the others tried to keep up.

  By the time we got there, she was already off her bike and kneeling next to someone.

  “Dane,” she cried, her hands resting on an older man’s chest, his wiry beard soaked in blood. “Oh God.” She stood up, spinning around, as she screamed, “Knox, Sam.”

  The four of us spread out, sweeping the area. There were tire tracks, but no bikes and no bodies. We went back to Ginger, who appeared to be in shock and Clutch took her gently by the shoulders. “Where would they go?”

  It took her a second, but she managed to point east. “There’s a cabin. It’s where we keep…supplies,” she said evasively. “They might have gone there if they couldn’t make it back.”

  “Let’s go,” Creed ordered, heading for his bike. “Lead the way, Ginger.”

  She steered us deeper into the woods, weaving through the trees when there wasn’t a path, leaving me to wonder how the hell we were going to get back out of here.

  A bike was on its side outside of a ramshackle old shack, and Ginger flew inside without waiting for us.

  “Fuck,” Clutch spat, jogging after her, a gun in his hand. Creed and Cord went around the side of the building as I followed after Clutch.

  Ginger crouched next to a man right as the other one leveled a gun at us. “They’re with me,” Ginger told him, glancing up at us briefly. “Two more are with them.”

  “Clutch,” the man said, recognizing him.

  “Professor,” Clutch replied, then gestured to me. “My brother, Crew.” I got a nod, but I was more concerned about the whereabouts of Monty.

  “Where’s Monty?” I asked, already suspecting the exchange had gone FUBAR. Creed and Cord came in from another entrance and the Professor almost shot them.

  “Put the gun down, Knox,” Ginger snapped. “They’re friends.” She glanced up, her face drawn. “Can one of you help him?”

  Blood covered her hands and Cord limped forward, but I could tell by Knox’s expression that there was no hope.

  “Monty didn’t come alone,” he told us. “He had an entire crew. Hired, most likely. He took what we had and shot Dane and Sam.” Knox shook his head, his expression pained. “Sam….Sam took the bullet for me.”

  “Monty has the guns and guys?” I verified and Knox nodded. “I have a bad feeling.” Anxiety crawled through me and I reached for my phone, desperate to check in on Drea.

  “There’s no reception out here,” Knox stated, waving his hand. “That’s why I didn’t call for backup when it went down.”

  “Sam, noooooo, Sam.” Knox closed his eyes as Ginger cried out and I didn’t need to see Cord shake his head to know Sam was dead.

  “If he has guns and men, we need to get back home,” I declared and saw the agreement on the others’ faces. “Can you ride?” I pointed to Knox, who nodded, getting to his feet.

  “We’re at least two hours away,” Creed reminded me unnecessarily. “He has a head start.”

  “They’ll be okay,” I said hollowly, trying to convince myself. “Where are the guns?” I knew they had to have them stashed somewhere in the little shack, but I didn’t have time to search. We needed to go, but we’d need more firepower. He glanced at Ginger before answering, and only when she nodded, did he go to a trapdoor hidden in the floor.

  “What the hell?” Cord stared wide-eyed at the arsenal hidden under the floorboards. “You preparing for World War III in here?”

  “Something like that,” Knox muttered, passing us a few semi-automatic weapons. “Ginger,” he called, his voice sharpening when she didn’t answer. “Ginger.”

  She looked up, her face devastated, and he shook his head. “Grieve later. Right now, we kill the bastard.”

  She nodded, taking the weapons he handed her, and then he dropped the door back down and headed out the cabin. “Where are we going?” He shouted, straddling his bike.

  “Follow us,” Clutch answered, speeding through the woods with no hesitation. We drove until we had no choice but to stop for gas and I tried Drea, but there was no answer. A glance at the other guys revealed they didn’t get one either.

  “We’ve got guys who will meet us on the outskirts of Friendly,” Knox reported. “They won’t cross into your territory without invitation.”

  Creed nodded, his face stoic as we rode, each of us lost in our own thoughts. Finally, we reached the city limits and several more bikers pulled alongside us. When we went to make the turn toward the club, a cop car blocked the road. We slowed to a stop as Noah stepped from the car, Weasel getting out the other side, his face swollen beyond recognition.

  “Drea,” I called, fear spiking the air around me as Creed and Cord ran toward Noah. “The others?”

  “Monty showed up at the club, basically took everyone inside hostage,” Noah reported, nodding to Weasel. “He managed to escape with Micah’s help and came to me. We’ve been waiting for you to get back.”

  “Why didn’t you go in?” I shouted, getting right in Noah’s face, but he didn’t flinch.

  “Because I didn’t have the firepower,” he answered calmly, but the words still sent a chill down my spine. “I wasn’t going to risk anyone’s life when I knew good and well I couldn’t win. Not alone.”

  “None of our old ladies are answering,” Creed admitted, his voice faint. “We suspect they’re in there if that’s the case.”

  “Probably,” Noah nodded. “All I’ve been able to do is try and gather intel. Looks like twenty guys, but I couldn’t tell what kind of weapons.”

  “We know,” Knox stepped forward. He rattled off some of the models and Noah’s eyes widened.
“But don’t worry, we came loaded for bear.” He started yanking out weapons, passing them to the newcomers and Noah turned his back, shaking his head, as he muttered, “Can’t see that.”

  “We head to our house,” Cord ordered. “Make a plan. We can sneak in through the back. We’ll wait till dark if we have to.”

  I stood there, fear locking my muscles and Creed came up to me. “Not now,” he murmured quietly. “Later, but not now.” He gripped my shoulder, shaking me and I snapped out of it, nodding.

  “Later,” I echoed, cranking my bike and following Cord. Bikes lined the street in front of our house as we all piled inside, counting weapons and having Noah recount everything he knew.

  “Extra ammo,” Knox mentioned. “If it comes to a firefight, extra ammo will make the difference.”

  “Out back,” I replied, standing up, too restless to sit and plan anymore. “I’ll grab it.” I paused when I reached the door. “We’ve only got the basics,” I commented and Knox nodded.

  “That’s fine.”

  I went out the door, dusk falling as I headed for the kennels and the locker where we stashed a variety of supplies. I slowed as I came to the storage room, seeing the lock was busted and I glanced around, scanning for anything out of place.

  I eased the door open, gun in hand, and barely stopped myself from pulling the trigger when he said, “It’s me.”

  The light flicked on and Deacon stood hunched against the wall, a bloody bandage wound around his arm.

  I lowered my gun and grabbed him in a bear hug. “I’m so fucking glad to see you,” I muttered and he shook his head.

  “Same, brother, same.”

  “Why didn’t you come to the house?” I questioned, helping him sit down.

  “Wasn’t sure what my welcome would be,” he admitted, balancing on a bucket. “Coming back from the dead and all.”

  “Open arms, man. Welcome you with open arms.”

  “What’s going on?” Deacon pointed to the street. “You’re building an army.”

  “Monty,” I answered and Deacon’s lip curled. “Yeah, he’s got the clubhouse, holding our women hostage.”